After the sled slowed
by Should'a worn a bell
Summary: After the sled slowed, the wind attacked mercilessly, and the cold made Jonas sick. But the twinkling lights gave him hope. A feeling that made him hurt. Why? Because he knew that only he would feel it.


**can i just say that i had the best time writing this? it was so fun thinking up different endings! and this was right up my alley, so the moment the teacher said that we would be doing a new ending for the giver, i was so excited!**

**so, teacher sir, here's my ending! so, disclaimer: i don't own The Giver. do i look like Lois lowry to you?**

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><p>…Downward, downward, faster and faster. Suddenly he was aware with certainty and joy that below, ahead, they were waiting for him; and that they were waiting, too, for the baby. For the first time, he heard something that he knew to be music. He heard people singing.<br>Behind him, across vast distances of space and time, from the place he had left, he though he heard music too.

The sled slowed, slower and slower until it came to a stop. Inside of him, he felt something stirring. So many emotions… _love, hope, happiness._ They almost over-whelmed him. These emotions gave him energy, filling his body and reaching through his body and forcing him to his feet.

Slowly, painfully, he pressed forward, ignoring the biting, vicious cold wind. Clutching Gabe to his chest he tried to transfer the memory of warmth, of sunshine. And slowly the memory changed. It faded, first in color, then in sound, until it was only a dull smudge in the back of his mind. Staggering towards the house he held tight to the final glimpse of sun, of warmth.

His target was the house, covered in twinkling lights and emitting a strange and beautiful sound. _Music_, he thought.

Standing in front of the door, he clutched Gabe to his chest tightly with one arm while he used the other to knock on the door.

The door was answered by a girl with long brown hair and silver eyes. "Oh my gosh, Iris, come here quickly!" she yelled into the house.

"Who is it? If it's that Xavier kid, don't let him in!" he heard someone call. The girl in the doorway rolled her eyes comically at Jonas and ushered him in.

"Oh my god, what happened to your leg?" she gasped at the gash on his leg, which had now begun to ooze a yellow-ish puss swirled with red. "We've got to get you looked at…" she ushered him into another room and lied him down on a couch. "Here, let me take the baby for you while we look at that cut."

Jonas looked down at the child, his grip tightening for a moment. Would she give him back? Could he trust her? Would she just kill him like the others in his community would, and say that he was better?

He decided against the horrid thoughts that clouded his mind, and handed her Gabriel. In a sing-song voice she cooed to him as she walked out of the room. Jonas cringed as the memories of his father rushed back. His sing-song voice, much deeper than hers, still haunted him. How many lies that underlined it. He shuddered.

"Oh my gosh, is that a baby?" the same voice from before came from the room the brunette had dis-appeared into.

"Yeah, there's a boy in the living room with an infected cut on his leg. He's the one who came and knocked on our door. These two are barely hanging on by a thread! They look like they've been in the wild for days! I just had to let them in, especially in this weather."

The sound of footsteps followed as a woman with red-brown hair poked her head in. "oh, you poor thing." Her eyes were green and sparkled with surprise and fear. "Bree, be a dear and get Wally for me."

After a few moments of the girl, Bree, yelling for 'Wally' to come down, a new voice joined them in the room next to him, laced with panic. "What's wrong? Who died?"

"No one, we just need you to get the first-aid kit."

"For who, is Iris hurt? Did something happen to Barry?" the voice rambled on and on until it was silenced by a loud smack.

"Calm yourself, West, it's just a boy that came out of the blizzard. He was holding a baby and is injured so…" she trailed off as the sound of footsteps became softer and softer.

Iris looked at him softly, and smiled. "What's your name?"

"Jonas." He answered weakly, tiredly. Right now the only strength he had was dwindling, the adrenalin wearing off from his previous encounters.

"Well, Jonas, why don't you lie down and rest. When you wake up I'm sure we'll have you fixed up." She smiled at him, but it only struck fear into Jonas. The smile he'd seen so many times in his mother's eyes, the red hair that Fiona had, the kind words the giver said. Was this all a dream? An illusion that put together all his favourite things?

The fear that pulsed through him made him fidget and move around, trying to keep himself awake, but the heaviness he felt did not cease. His eyes closed against his will, and then the world fell black.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the harsh lights until his eyes adjusted.

"Hey, you're awake." The boy smiled above him. "Hey Iris, he's awake!" he shouted out.

The woman popped in, relief washing over her expression. "Good. Now, how about we get you some food?"

Jonas wearily looked up at her, his doubts from earlier churning through his mind again. But, out of hunger, he nodded, feeling his stomach growl.

"Good, just stay here, I'll be back in a minute." She walked out of the room, leaving Jonas alone with the boy.

"I'm Wally." He introduced himself, awkwardly puffing up his chest in pride.

Jonas nodded awkwardly. Looking around the room, he realised that he'd been moved. The surroundings were different and unfamiliar. The walls were covered in brightly coloured posters and photos, contrasting greatly against the light blue paint. A desk was pushed up against the wall and was piled with books of different subjects.

Iris entered the room carrying a tray of food, looking quite pleased with herself. "You look as if you haven't eaten in days! Oh, you poor thing. Here, we have plenty left over, so if you're still hungry, let me know. Come on Wally!" Iris called to him.

"See ya around, Jonas!" he said from the doorway before being tugged out by his shirt collar.

These people were strange.

It had been a week since Jonas had showed up on their front door, and the family had never once stopped being so nice. He explained to them where he came from, explaining his community and how they live, causing mixed reactions from the group.

Iris and Barry, the adoptive parents of Wally and Bree, would nod their heads and smile, just as his parents would when he was younger. He knew it was because they didn't believe him, but he couldn't care less. He knew it was true.

Wally would scoff, claiming that this was impossible and that he must have just blacked out during his adventure and dreamed it up. Bree would then normally hit him over the head and reprimand him, urging Jonas to go on, hanging off his every word.

And Jay, the oldest of the family, would tell him that he would be a fantastic author, and that the stories he came up with were enough to make him famous.

In return, the family would tell him stories. Bree would tell him stories about 'super-heroes', explaining the many adventures of fictional characters with super-human powers, while Wally would tell him about all the wild life, illustrating stories of 'foxes' and 'wolves' with his words.

And today was no different, except for the fact that the house was filled with relatives. Noise bubbled up the stairs, waking Jonas from his dreamless slumber. "Whazza…?" he asked to no one in particular, half unconscious still.

Gleeful shrieks and giggles floated in, forcing Jonas to his feet. Pulling on a sweater over his head to cover his bare chest he stepped out of the room.

"g'mornin', sleepy-head!" Bree called from behind him. "You goin' downstairs to join in the festivities? I'm sure everyone'll love your stories. Especially the kids. Gabe will have a bunch of kids to play with, so don't worry about that." She laughed, lacing her fingers with his and tugging him down the stairs.

Jonas was still not used to such roughness, nor was he used to the skin-on-skin contact. In the community, only members of a family unit could really touch each other without it being considered 'rude' and such roughness would be reprimanded almost instantly. But here, in elsewhere, it was normal.

"Now don't worry Jonas, it might be awkward, it always is the first year, but you'll get used to it. Just let them see how imaginative you are, and everyone will love you." She smiled before dropping his hand and swerving away, cutting through the family to get to the bookshelf they kept in their living room.

"So you're Jonas, eh?" someone asked from behind him. Jonas whipped around, only to see a boy, about his age, with raven-hair and blue eyes that seemed to penetrate his soul.

"Yes…" he answered feebly, suddenly feeling very awkward.

"Cool, I'm Dick. I've heard a lot about you from Wally. Hey look, they're opening the presents. Come watch." Dick rushed over and perched himself on the arm of a chair where another boy, older than him with red-orange hair sat, with Bree leaning over his shoulders with her arms wrapped around his neck.

Jonas walked forward nervously, picking his way through the crowd, recognition dawning slightly.

Sitting down beside the three on the floor Indian-style he watched as young children ripped open boxes covered in brightly coloured paper, hugging soft comfort-animals, or stuffies, as they called them.

The moment was so familiar, déjà-vu as they called it. He could have sworn he'd seen it somewhere…

The memories from the Giver rushed back to him, flashes and glimpses of this exact scene. Of Jay sitting in the chair, watching them open the packages, Wally and Dick fighting over the last pastry, Bree curled up with a book in front of the fire with a boy sitting behind her reading over her shoulder.

And Gabe, sitting with the other toddlers, babbling his baby talk, avidly listening to each word spoken in hopes that he may be able to re-create it.

He smiled, realising something important that he'd missed all along.

These were not memories.

"Hey Jonas, Wally tells me that you've got a really wild imagination, and are a really great story teller. Why don't you tell me some?"

Jonas smiled, nodding, feeling his chest swell up with a mixture of a thousand feelings.

This was his life. This was his future.

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><p><strong>so, whadd'ya think? please tell me about any mistakes in the reviews, because <strong>**i want feedback before i hand this in to the teacher when it's due.**

**the ending, i have a theory that the memories aren't memories, but glimpses of the future. that's just my opinion.**

**oh, and the beginning paragraph is from the book, and was only added so the ending flowed better with the book.**


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